The Highlander's Bride

by Donna Fletcher

  Cullen suddenly felt odd, sitting there on the bed with her, talking like newly acquired friends when in essence she was not a friend at all, but the woman who forced him to wed her in exchange for his son’s whereabouts.

  “You frown. Something troubles you,” she said.

  “This scene,” he admitted, waving his hand out in front of him. “It is odd sitting here conversing with a stranger who is my wife.”

  “We are merely a means to an end for each other. There isn’t any reason not to be civil about it. We both will do what we must to get what we want. You want your son. I want my freedom. We both will benefit, with no loss suffered by either of us. I’d say our bargain was a worthy one.”

  “Put like that, it sounds justifiable.”

  “It is justifiable. We’ve made no unreasonable demands on each other.”

  His brow shot up.

  Sara folded her arms across her chest. “Speak your peace.”

  “You have dictated the terms from the beginning. I have no recourse but to follow them.”

  “If you viewed it as merely an equitable bargain, you’d see it as favorable and have no problem.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that you dictate the terms.”

  “True enough.”

  He laughed. “I don’t like being dictated to.”

  “In this case I don’t think you have a choice.”

  He leaned forward. “There’s always a choice.”

  “Not this time.”

  Her smug, singsong tone punched him right in the gut, and he’d be damned if he didn’t retaliate. “I think otherwise.”

  “Really?” she asked calmly. “And what do you intend to do about it?”

  He pressed his nose to hers. “I intend to bed you when and where I choose.”

  Chapter 7

  Sara leaned back with a confident shake of her head. “The choice remains mine.”

  He laughed gruffly. “You think so?”

  “Do you intend to force me?”

  “I won’t have to.”

  She wanted so badly to slap the sinfully confident sneer off his face. But such an action would only foster his self-assurance, giving him the upper hand. Of course, she could just let him have his way and be done with it.

  Why didn’t the notion sit well with her?

  Too many people dictating to her? Too little control of her life? Too frightened of how she might feel or respond?

  “Just surrender and leave it to me. It will be easier that way.”

  Surrender?

  She didn’t have the luxury of surrender. She had to look out for herself, which meant she’d need to seduce him to have it her way, on her terms.

  “I agree surrender is the easier way. I’m sure you’ll enjoy surrendering to me.”

  He laughed hysterically. She didn’t think he’d stop, and of course, it was amusing to see how he so foolishly misjudged her, so she chuckled herself.

  Cullen held his stomach and in between final chuckles said. “I haven’t laughed until it hurt in a long time.”

  “So glad I could amuse you.”

  “Oh, you did, you truly did.”

  “This encounter at least served a useful purpose,” she said.

  “And what is that?”

  “We both learned that neither of us like to be dictated to.”

  “It could prove a problem.”

  Sara smiled. “Not really.”

  “I’m amazed.”

  “Not awed?”

  He shook his head. “You truly believe it will go your way?”

  “Of course, but then so do you—” She stopped his protest with a raised hand. “—believe it will go your way.”

  “I need to remember that you’re quick-witted.”

  “You need to know many things about me if you’re to have your way with me, but then—” She winced as if her remark would be painful, though not to her. “I believe you referred to me as a stranger? Whereas I’ve already learned some things about you.”

  “You’d make an excellent warrior.”

  Sara slipped off the bed and stretched her back. “I’ve been one all my life.”

  Cullen grinned. “I’ve just learned something about you.”

  “Please, I felt sorry for you and threw you a bone.” She wasn’t about to admit she had slipped up and allowed him a peek at her. She had to keep her confidence high in order to rattle his confidence.

  “I’ll take the scrap and any more you wish to throw me.”

  She admired his response. He hadn’t let her rattle him a bit, or at least he hadn’t shown it. He remained calm, which indicated confidence on his part. He felt he’d have his way.

  A strong wind suddenly whistled around the cottage, catching both their attentions.

  “This storm will delay us,” Sara said, feeling a bit disappointed. She was looking forward to returning home, seeing her sister, showing her father that she was capable of finding her own husband and finally living life as she chose. She also looked forward to uniting father and son. She believed the risk she had taken was well worth it and would prove even more laudable once Alexander was in his father’s arms.

  Cullen stretched himself off the bed. “We’re going to need more firewood if this storm continues to rage.”

  He was a fit one, muscles tightening and stretching his shirt, reminding her that when she chose, she’d know his taut flesh intimately. She wrestled with the exciting and frightening thought, though outwardly did not show it. “You’re right, the table won’t provide sufficient firewood.”

  Cullen reached for his fur cloak on the peg. “I’ll go see what I can find.”

  “Be careful,” she said, joining him at the door.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

  “I have no doubt you will,” she said softly, leaning forward and brushing her lips ever so faintly over his.

  She noticed a stirring in his dark eyes and was pleased with herself, so much so that she dared to brush another kiss across his warm, moist lips. And to her surprise found it sent a tickle through her. Seduction wasn’t difficult at all.

  Suddenly, she was swooped up in his arm, her startled gasp caught in a feverish kiss that had his tongue mating with hers and her blood rushing like wildfire through her until she thought she’d spark and burst like a flame.

  It was so sudden and so unexpected and yet so unbelievably wonderful. She actually didn’t want him to stop. She wanted more, much more.

  He tore his lips away from hers and pressed them near her ear. They pulsated against her flesh while her own throbbing lips ached from his abandonment. And when he spoke, his warm breath whispered across her face and sent tingles and gooseflesh rushing over her.

  “Now tell me who will decide when we mate.”

  He left her staring at the closed door, the heat from her body melting the flurry of snowflakes the wind had driven in to fall around her.

  She was in trouble. Big trouble. She splayed her hand against the door to gain balance and perspective. If one kiss could turn her so utterly mindless, he’d have his way with her in no time.

  But that was what she wanted, so why make a problem out of it? Get it done with as he had said.

  Sara pushed away from the door, her legs surprisingly weak and her body still trembling. She sat on the edge of the bed, determined to make sense of her situation, see it for what it was and make no more of it.

  Be honest, Sara, you must be honest with yourself, she warned silently.

  She didn’t want to just be done with it. She wanted a memorable night, and it was because of Cullen. He was a fine-looking man with good teeth and a good mind, a man who, under different circumstances, she would have considered for a husband. If he had been similar to Harken McWilliams—she cringed at the thought—she would have bed him fast. A necessary approach since she would have had to hold her breath.

  But from what she had determined thus far, Cullen seemed a good man, and good men were hard to find. So could she b
lame herself for wanting to enjoy him under her terms, and not feel their shared intimacy meant anything more than sealing their bargain?

  Besides, she wanted to experience kisses and touches and not just the act itself. She wanted to feel it all, enjoy it all, savor it all. After Cullen, there would be no one, and at least she’d have the precious memories to keep her warm on cold lonely nights and as fodder for good dreams.

  She understood his misgivings, his desire to have some say in the forced arrangement. She had experienced the same herself when her father informed her of the marriage he’d arranged for her.

  But hers had been no bargain. Cullen would benefit from their arrangement, as would she. She would get what she wanted…

  A spark of a smile tickled Sara’s mouth and grew. She didn’t have a problem. He would approach her. There’d be no need to seduce Cullen. She’d experience all the kisses and touches she wanted as long as…

  Her smile faded.

  As long as she didn’t surrender to him until she was ready.

  She touched her lips, the throbbing long since dissipated, though they remained sensitive and plumped. If one kiss could almost do her in, how would she be able to keep from surrendering to an onslaught of kisses?

  She stood quickly and paced in front of the bed. She would need a shield of sorts. Something she could erect when surrender became imminent. Think, Sara, think, she cautioned as she continued to pace.

  She stopped abruptly, and smiled once again. Her mind had often drifted off when she was intent on learning a new skill, and then she’d pay no heed to anything or anyone around her. Her sister had devised a fast way of yanking her out of her musings. Teresa would pinch her hard, and Lord did she feel the sting, but it worked and that was what mattered.

  A good hard pinch would do it.

  She set the thought in her mind, giving it credence so she could call on it when necessary. With her plan giving her added confidence, she set to work foraging the small cottage for anything that might prove useful.

  She found a couple of candle stubs, the wicks barely sufficient to sustain a flame. A small caldron was up-ended in a dark corner, and she placed it by the fireplace, thinking it might be of use for cooking if they were stuck there longer than they hoped to be. That and a broken wooden bowl were her limited finds.

  The last occupants of the cottage had thoroughly cleaned it out, leaving nothing but broken scraps behind, except for a single chair and the bed. She gave the bed a glance. It was narrow, barely large enough for two people.

  She was far from a tiny woman, and Cullen was certainly a brute of a Scotsman in size and manner. If the two of them could manage to fit on the narrow bed, it would certainly be a tight squeeze.

  Sara continued to stare, imagining them together in bed, clothed, of course, pressed tight against each other. She would be able to feel all of him, and he would feel all of her. She shivered, imagining the feel of his warm breath against her bare neck.

  “Want me to satisfy your curiosity right now?”

  She jumped, flaying her arms as she swung around, smacking Cullen square in the jaw and sending him and his armful of firewood stumbling back to crash against the closed door.

  Surprisingly, he managed to hang onto the wood as he caught his balance and kept himself upright. She was shocked at sending him reeling, and even more shocked that she’d been so absorbed in her thoughts as not to hear him enter, or to feel the rush of cold from the open door.

  Cullen rubbed his jaw. “You’ve got a mean elbow there.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, hurrying over to him. “You frightened me. I didn’t know you stood behind me.”

  She reached out and took the firewood from him.

  She was stacking the wood near the fire to dry when he shed his cloak on a peg and went to help her. “It wasn’t intentional,” he said.

  She glanced at him. The snow that nearly covered his hair melted rapidly from the heat of the fire and left the dark brown hair to glisten; like the dark rich earth after a refreshing rain, she thought. His cheeks were stained red from the cold, and his lips bore a blue color that warned he needed warmth.

  A kiss would warm them.

  “I didn’t frighten you on purpose.”

  Sara shook her head, realizing she had not responded and so he’d clarified his remark. “I didn’t think you did.”

  They stared at each other for several silent minutes, as if wondering what to make of their situation.

  She finally broke the silence. “How goes the storm?”

  “It continues to rage. My hope is that it will end sometime tonight and the morning sun will rise bright and warm and melt whatever snow has fallen, causing us only a short delay.”

  “Snowstorms in early spring usually don’t last long on the ground.”

  Cullen shrugged. “We have no choice but to make the most of it, and at least we have shelter. We could be huddled under a tree somewhere. Here we have a warm fire and a bed to huddle in.”

  She caught the deliberate, sinful little sneer of his lips. It was a quick flash and then it was gone. Almost as if he wanted her to see it and then perhaps doubt that she had. She decided her best response to his goading was to ignore him.

  “Then we will sleep well tonight,” she said, standing and brushing her hands off. She didn’t have to look at him to know his sneer had surfaced once again and he was about ready to provoke her.

  She turned with a flourish, grabbed the small caldron she had found, as well as her cloak, and hurried to the door. “Be right back.”

  He jumped up. “Don’t go out—”

  She smiled and wiggled her fingers in a wave before closing the door on him.

  The immediate sting of the snow felt refreshing against the heat of her cheeks. She breathed deep of the cold air, taking in great gulps. She’d needed to place distance between the Scotsman and her. He was a calculating warrior and a foe not to be underestimated. He had found what he assumed was her weakness, and would prey on it in hopes of gaining command of the situation.

  As much as she wished to experience a few moments of passion, she couldn’t chance losing control of their bargain. It was imperative that she reached her home and settled this matter with her father, which came before anything else.

  A chill raced through her, and she looked at the caldron hanging from her hand and was surprised to see that it was half full. The snow was falling heavier than when they first arrived at the cottage. She hoped Cullen was right. She hoped it would end and that the morning sun would chase the remnants of the snowstorm away.

  Before she could turn to enter the cottage, the door was flung open and she was yanked inside.

  “What is the matter with you, going out in a blinding snowstorm?”

  She held up the caldron. “Melted snow will provide us with water.” It was a good excuse and one he couldn’t argue with.

  His grip tightened on her arm and his eyes narrowed. “Until my son is returned safely to me you will refrain from placing yourself in danger. Do I make myself clear?”

  “I will see your son safe no matter what it takes.”

  His hand dropped off her and he stared at her strangely. “Why? He is nothing to you, yet you fiercely protect him.”

  She shook her head in disbelief and made a flourish of ridding herself of her cloak and arranging the caldron by the hearth to heat before she even considered supplying him with an answer.

  Cullen grew impatient and grabbed hold of her again, propelling her to the bed and forcing her to sit alongside him. “There is something you haven’t told me.”

  He certainly was perceptive.

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  She had told no one of it. It was a secret best kept a secret. “There is nothing to tell,” she said firmly.

  He took hold of her chin and forced her eyes on his. “No, there is something there.”

  She pulled her chin free. “You want something to be there. I did what was right and nothing more, and I co
ntinue to do what is right.”

  “By forcing me to wed and bed you?”

  “For a brief time only.”

  “Right,” Cullen said with a nod. “A brief time only.” He stood and stripped his shirt off. “Let’s get the brief bedding done with.”

  Chapter 8

  “You can kiss me if you’d like, but there will be no consummating our vows tonight,” Sara assured him with a smug smile.

  “Are you sure?” Cullen asked. “You can’t seem to take your eyes off my chest.”

  Sara stood and splayed her hand over his chest.

  “You have a fine chest, strong and thick with muscles.” She stroked her fingers along his flesh, up and down and all around, covering every inch. “I can feel your strength, your power.”

  Cullen almost reached out and snatched her hand away, but had he done that, she would have known that her touch affected him, and he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Besides, he didn’t want to believe that he could respond to her. But then, he was a man who had been months without a woman. What had he expected?

  Certainly not the heat that scorched his body to life. He felt a traitor to Alaina’s memory. Their love had developed slowly, shyly. Their first kiss was hesitant and unsure, and it had been an ongoing process before they came completely together and finally made love. It had been a beautiful joining, one he would never forget. She was a virgin, and he was gentle and slow with her.

  Presently, he wasn’t thinking slow and gentle. He was thinking of hiking up Sara’s skirt, plunging into her, and satisfying his lust, nothing more. It would settle their bargain and settle his need.

  She walked around him, running her fingers along his shoulders, down his back, across his waist, and back up again in a playful rhythmic touch.

  “You are a fine man,” she said softly. “Few scars mar your skin and I so admire the strength of you.”

  Cullen had had enough of her teasing. He grabbed her wrist, shoved her to the bed, and fell down on top of her. She was pinned helplessly beneath him, and he waited for a spark of panic to light in her eyes.

  She smiled and aimed for his heart with a single question. “Were you this rough with Alaina?”